


patch up

by sundae_serenade



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gentle Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundae_serenade/pseuds/sundae_serenade
Summary: Every scar tells a story, and Green is finally ready to listen.
Relationships: Ookido Green | Blue Oak/Red
Comments: 10
Kudos: 114





	patch up

The kiss is just barely a kiss; a ghost of breath that speaks of intentions with the barest hint of lips upon skin. It is delicate in every sense of the word, a soothing touch, a kind word. The kiss that is less of a kiss and more of a symbol of acceptance is pressed upon a thick neck; more specifically, upon a set of scars that apparently came from a sneasel.

Green pulls back and looks into Red’s eyes. “Where’s the next one?”

It’s hidden under the shirt sleeve on Red’s right arm. It’s a deep, black bruise, rounded at the edges with red skin. A misdreavus who took things a little too far. Green leans over and carefully kisses that one next and then repeats the question.

Red stares at him in confusion, not understanding completely but complying. There’s a long scar on his left arm that extends from his elbow down to the inside of his wrist. Green’s heart stings when he looks at it for too long. It’s usually covered up by jackets and it’s on Red’s left, where Green doesn’t usually stand. He’s noticed it before but…

He doesn't hide from it now. He takes Red’s arm in his hands and turns it. He gently traces the scar from the elbow to the wrist, noticing the length, the width, the concerning color of the skin. An absol who’d been scared and lashed out in response.

Green looks at it with care and self-hatred. He kisses along it with affection and recognition. He stops at Red’s wrist and his lips press against it tenderly. Wishes are promised there, on the inside of Red’s wrist. Regret is imposed upon Green’s shoulders.

“Next one,” Green says, a break in his voice.

Donphan is the next offender. Red lifts his shirt and reveals a slight discoloration on his left side, right above his hip. This one takes time, and Red gives him that.

Green’s fingers are shaking as he touches the skin. Donphan are _powerful_ pokémon. They are aggressive and proud. They are deadly when agitated. They are dangerous. That sets in slowly, a chill that grips Green’s heart and squeezes. If Red hadn’t turned his body slightly… If a tusk had pierced him…

This kiss is accompanied with tears that carry fear and disbelief. The tears arrive first before Green’s lips can, but they both make it to warm skin. Green trembles as his stomach turns and his mind unkindly gives him scenarios to further terrify him.

Red cups his cheek and brings him back. Red wipes his face and kisses him, but Green won’t allow himself to be distracted. He grips Red’s hand and asks once more, “Where’s the next one?”

Red’s expression tells him that’s enough. Why do they need to continue? Why did they start in the first place? What is this doing? What are you _doing,_ Green? This isn’t what tonight was supposed to be about.

And Green says, “No,” with a voice that is laden with contrition. “This is long overdue, Red, and you know it.”

Red continues to stare, frowning.

 _“Please,”_ Green speaks, and it’s becoming harder and harder, so he puts his all behind it. “Where’s the next one?”

It’s on Red’s right calf. A gyarados bite. Not fully grown, Green can tell from the scar, but it was no doubt painful and this is a pain that they both know. Temperamental and fierce, gyarados aren’t easy to train. Wild ones are unpredictable and aren’t afraid to show off their power. Green knows this, has a scar of his own to prove it, but it hurts all the same.

It hurts because Red didn’t have someone there to help him through the pain or hold his hand while it was tended to like Green did. And what he would give _now_ to be that person for Red, to rewrite history, to rearrange the stars so that everything between them turned out perfect and right.

But all he can do is kiss that scar gingerly. All he can do is hope that his emotions are conveyed through this simple action. That these kisses that he gives and will _continue_ to give are doing something.

Before Green can get the words out, Red’s already lifting his right leg. On his right ankle are four claw marks, long and deep. A heavy grip with intent. An ursaring who’d grabbed him and _pulled_.

Fury is the first thing Green feels, but perhaps it’s been here all along, boiling and waiting to strike out. Green sits back and holds Red’s leg, bears the weight so he doesn’t have to and kisses every inch of that scar with barely restrained anger.

There’s anger for every scar of hurt, for every battle that Red had to face on his own, for every hardship he suffered while the wind howled and clouds blocked the sun, and Green feels anger… at himself. For not being there. For being oblivious and selfish while his friend isolated himself from the entire world.

There are more. There are _more_. Little scratches and marks along Red’s collarbone and abdomen, down his back, on his cheek and across his eyebrow. Green kisses each and every one. He pours love into the kisses, apologies and promises to be better. His hands soothe skin with warm touches. He massages and tries to heal as much as he can, to _fix_ as much as he can as his heart breaks into pieces.

Green’s truly crying now, tears unable to stop and neither of them try to. He straddles Red’s waist. He takes a deep breath and sniffs. “Where’s the next one?”

Red takes Green’s hand and places it against his chest. The thumping of his heartbeat is all Green feels and the definitions of his chest is all he sees. But the implication reaches him, and when it does, Green lowers his head and places a lingering kiss there that he hopes will never fade.

And they come together where they began, breathing together, misty-eyed and captivated in one another. But there’s understanding now, acceptance marked all over Red’s skin with tingling kisses that are there and not. Every scar that can be _seen_ has been faced, brought to light under quiet night.

They’ll work on the last one together. They’ve already started to.

Green kisses Red on the lips to seal each promise. It is lasting and meaningful. It isn’t like him to stop what they’re about to do to revisit old hurts and bring up old feelings, but Red had held him when Green couldn’t say a word and sobs and tears were his only explanation.

This is the least Green can do to make up for his absence. He will shoulder as much of that as he can. Along with the guilt and pain that already resides, he will kiss each scar and mark until the pain fades into the tickling feeling of Green’s love.

Because each mark means something and so does every kiss. Because each tear that falls from Red’s eyes is a feeling being released for Green to catch.

Because Green sees him for who he truly is: red petals upon freshly fallen snow.


End file.
